


Surprise

by bookjunkiecat



Series: Mystrade Story Times [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mystrade Story Time, do not copy to another site, locked to AO3 user, surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookjunkiecat/pseuds/bookjunkiecat
Summary: When Sherlock 'lets it slip' that it's Mycroft's birthday, Greg springs into action. At last he can help his best friend celebrate his birthday. He doesn't have a lot of time, but luckily he's got the able help of Anthea. And he's got years of gifts saved up to give Mycroft. To his surprise, the one gift he thinks Myc doesn't want, turns out to be just what they both need.
Relationships: Greg & Mycroft, Greg Lestrade/Mycroft Holmes, Greg/Mycroft, Mystrade - Relationship, pre-Mystrade - Relationship
Series: Mystrade Story Times [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1335472
Comments: 21
Kudos: 157
Collections: Mystrade StoryTime





	Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paia_Loves_Pie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/gifts).

> Originally posted to Twitter as part of the Mystrade Story Times (come follow me @savvyblunders!)   
This was inspired by Paia and is a gift to her for her own birthday. I'm so glad you were born, my friend.
> 
> Minor edits made to accommodate the change in platforms.

Greg was suspicious when Sherlock 'casually' let drop that it was Mycroft's birthday. Almost certainly Sherlock was doing it to stir up trouble, but since it worked to Greg's advantage, he just blinked mildly at the younger man and redirected the conversation. Once Sherlock, long-suffering John in tow, had departed, Greg dove for his computer, Googling wildly.

He and Mycroft had been acquainted for nearly a decade and they had been friends for more than two years, ever since the events at Sherrinford had torn down some of Mycroft's formiddable walls. Despite Greg teasing, coaxing and outright _begging,_ Mycroft hadn't ever let slip when he was born. True, the man was a vault for all sorts of secrets, but Greg wasn't sure why he had to keep even the date of his birth so closely held. It wasn't like Greg was going to shout it out. No big, embarrasing public parties or displays--although Mycroft deserved to have a fuss made over him--but no, he would do nothing like that. Greg would just, well, he'd like to be able to do a little something special for his friend.

Sadly he didn't have enough advance notice to plan things properly today. Luckily, however, he had been doing a bit of prep in case he ever _did_ find out. Even more luckily, he had the friendship and the cooperation of Anthea. Anthea was better than a team of party planners. Texting her a short time later, he sent off a flurry of requests and followed them up with begging emojis. Since it was barely lunchtime, he had a good seven hours at his disposal and Greg shamelessly prioritized Mycroft's birthday over work. Sod the paperwork, it could wait. Wiggling happily in his seat, Greg placed a few orders, paying the exorbitant rush fees without a qualm.

The gods of justice were on his side for once and with the bemused cooperation of Donovan Greg was slipping down the stairs at ten minutes to five, eager to be gone before something dreadful happened to call him away. He managed to keep to the posted speed, but it was a close thing. At his flat he took a very hot shower, singing boisterously enough that Mrs Next-Door banged on the wall. Toweling his hair off briskly, he danced naked through the flat, bouncing with an excess of energy and excitement. Myc was gonna be so surprised! Anthea had promised that she would have Mycroft out of the office by 6:30, barring WWIII, and so Greg had enough time to gather up the items he'd been storing in his flat, before he headed out to stop by the bakery. Due to Anthea's assistance, he and his packages were allowed into Mycroft's house with a minimum of fuss. He'd been here a number of times before, but never without Mycroft. Greg bit his lip with excitement and went to leave the bakery box in the kitchen whilst he set up in the lounge. Running back and forth burned off some of his restless energy, so that by the time he heard the warning chime through the alarm system he was prepared for Mycroft's arrival.

Unfortunately Mycroft wasn't prepared for _him._ "Surprise!" Greg chirped, stepping out of the kitchen into the entry hall. Mycroft screamed, a startled, high-pitched sound which made Greg simultaneously wince and realize that perhaps startling a man with many enemies and a secretive job wasn't his brightest idea. "It's just me!"

Myc clutched at his chest, eyes comically wide. "Gregory..."

"Sorry," he apologized, approaching with placating hands outstretched. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you--what are you _doing_ here?" Myc looked around as if he thought more people might spring out at any moment.

"Um...happy birthday?" Greg tried a tentative smile. He was beginning to regret this idea.

"How...did you know it was my birthday?"

Greg twisted his hands together, biting his lip, "Sherlock," he muttered.

Myc sighed, "Did you say 'Sherlock'?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as if all it took to inspire a migraine was the mere _mention_ of his brother. Which, okay, fair.

"Um, yeah?"

"Leaving aside for now the matter of why he felt it necessary to share the date of my birth with you, might I inquire as to why you were lying in wait in my house like an assasin?"

This was...really not going well. Greg wanted to run away, but there was no hiding from Mycroft Holmes. "I was going more for a festive surprise than 'I'm here to kill you,'" He tried on a smile. "Surprise!"

Sighing gustily, Mycroft set down his laptop case and hung up his coat. "You've met your aim admirably, as I am indeed surprised," he commented dryly. Perhaps seeing Greg's deepening disappointment on his face, he softened. "Thank you, Gregory, this is kind of you. I don't require my birthday to be acknowledged or celebrated. A call would have sufficed had you felt it truly necessary."

"There's more," Greg peeped, deciding it couldn't get any worse. Besides, he could hardly hope to just leave and have Mycroft remain unaware of he'd been up to. Even the most unobservant person would be unable to miss the...display. And Myc was not, under any circumstances, unobservant. Even the one time Greg had seen him get pretty squiffy on New Years the man had been razor sharp.

Myc's mouth moved--Greg wasn't sure if he was just being wildly optimistic or not, but he thought it might be a smile threatening to emerge. "Of course there is," he breathed. He did smile now, although it was a bit wary. "I daresay you've colluded with my treacherous PA to collect a motley group of cohorts to spring out at me?"

Greg drew himself up, "I did not. Well, I mean, I did collude. But there are no cohorts."

Myc's face eased visibly. His shoulders sank from around his ears to their normal spot. "Oh?" he asked, hopeful. "I'm not to be confronted by a roomful of people in party hats?"

"You'd hate that," Greg said, smiling. "Birthdays are supposed to be about what _you'd_ like. So no crowds for you." He shrugged a little, face warm. "I _hope_ you'll like this..."

Myc crossed the hall, put a hand lightly on Greg's back and gave him one of those private smiles that made Greg's insides go squirmy. "I'm sure I will. Show me?" Despite his affability, Greg was aware that Myc wasn't entirely at ease. He could feel the tension in the other man--which meant he could feel it disappear when they walked into the lounge. He sighed gently, "Gregory..."

"You like it?" Greg asked hopefully, eyes on his friend. The only lights came from cozy lamps and the fireplace, which cracked & popped gently, burning cherrywood scenting the air. The TV was on, the sound muted, and the menu for 'Laura' visible. A frankly impressive array of festively wrapped gifts were displayed on the coffee table. "I've got Chinese on the way," Greg said nervously, wondering if Myc was going to speak or just stare silently. "I thought we could have popcorn during the movies. There's champagne and macarons for after, and um, I may have gotten carried away with the cake." He winced, "Please tell me you don't hate me?"

Myc's silence finally broke and he turned to Greg, eyes shining, "Gregory Lestrade," he breathed, "You are magnificent."

Greg wilted with relief, "Yeah?" A grin broke out, "You like it?"

Myc was smiling his Greg-smile again, "I love it." He touched Greg's arm, fingers warm through the sleeve of Greg's best date shirt. "It's all my favourite things in one room."

"Yeah, I thought you'd be pleased about the film and the food and--"

Shocking him into silence, Myc softly pressed his fingertips to Greg's mouth, "The most important things are your consideration and understanding of my likes," he shushed. Greg's lips tingled at his touch and his seriously strong crush threatened to veer out of control. "You've planned a perfect evening...I can conceive of nothing more wonderful than sharing all of this with you."

Swallowing with difficulty, Greg murmured--very aware of his lips moving against Myc's skin-- "I just wanted to make you happy, Myc. You're my best friend."

Still not moving his hand away from Greg's mouth, Myc tilted his head, looking at him with those intense, mesmerizing eyes. "I've never had a best friend before, Gregory, so you shall have to coach me in this, as in so much. Tell me...is it tradition for best friends to exchange physical tokens of their regard? Such as a kiss on special occassions?"

_Oh god,_ Greg thought dimly, _someone save me._ He wouldn't survive a 'friendly' kiss. Not when he ached for so much more. "Um...s-sure, mate. A birthday k-kiss between friends--"

Myc removed his fingers and leaned in, setting Greg's pulse into overdrive. Brushing his lips over Greg's cheek, he murmured, "There, a kiss between friends."

Swallowing back disappointment, telling himself it was for the best, Greg summoned a smile. "Y-yeah--"

Myc regarded him tenderly, his hand moving to cup Greg's jaw and tilt his head, "And if I were to ask for a kiss which was more than friendly, Gregory? Would you accommodate that as well?"

A tiny whimper escaped and Greg squeezed his eyes shut. "Myc, please don't mess me about." Leaning in, Myc's warm breath fanned Greg's lips. He swallowed a needy whimper.

"Is desiring to finally give in to the attraction and affection I've long held for you 'messing about'?"

His eyes popped open, wild hope flooding him. "A-affection?"

Myc's pupils had consumed his eyes, darkening them. His lips were shining as he nervously licked them. "Dare I say I am more than affectionate?"

"I'm more than affectionate too," Greg sighed, giving in to his desire and sinking into Myc's waiting arms.

* * *

_Several hours later..._

Snuggling his head into Myc's chest, Greg sighed as the credits for 'Laura' rolled. The remains of their Chinese feast littered the table, balled up wrapping paper scattered underneath. Myc had protested that Greg had bought him too much, but subsided, flushed, when Greg assured him they had been bought over the last several years. "Never knew when your birthday was, did I?" he'd teased, kissing Myc gently. "I've had these in a cupboard, waiting."

"I feel like I've been kept waiting in a cupboard," Myc had confessed, smoothing his hands down Greg's chest. He bit his lip, eyes shy and bright. "Does every new relationship feel like this at the beginning?"

"I dunno," Greg had confessed, kissing him for the millionth time, "never felt like this before."

Murmuring his name in a way that sounded like an endearment, felt like a caress, Myc had pulled him close and kissed him. They'd kissed until the food arrived, kissed through most of the meal and all of the movie. "It's a good thing we've seen this before," Myc murmured now, stirring. He stroked Greg's back, "I don't think I absorbed a bit of it."

"Me either," Greg concurred, turning his face to rub his nose against Myc's chest. He found the opening between buttons, nuzzled, seeking Myc's animal heat, his smell, his skin. There was an undershirt in the way and he made a sad noise. "Happy, Myc?"

"Never more so," he sighed, shifting so he could reach Greg's mouth. He sipped at his lips, "Mmm, this is the happiest birthday I've ever had. You've set the bar high."

Greg smiled against his mouth, "Gotta say, darlin', it's only gonna go uphill from here. I'm gonna spoil you _so hard._ I've got a lot of years to make up for."


End file.
